In response to some reviews, don't think of this universe as something specific. I don't want to box this AU into a specific comic universe. Just think of it as an abstract universe that contains both the gods and heroes, and we'll leave it at that.

To be honest this story so far has been more cohesive and put together than originally planned, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'd expected to have less threads connecting each chapter, and that'll still be happening in later installments, but just wanted to clarify what exactly is happening with this experimental project of mine.

It's also come to my attention that there's a word called wanderlust. To be frank, I hadn't realized it existed up until a few days ago, and that was entirely a coincidence after coming upon it in a book (lmao). Oh well, the definitions of my made-up word and wanderlust aren't the same, even if they are a little similar. Just something funny I thought I'd share.

With that, winter break's coming up for me so hopefully, I'll be able to write more and update soon.

P.S. I hate writing action. A lot of the times it feels generic and stretches too long. Which is funny since I decided to cross PJO with a suphero universe. Eh, you'll still get some action if you want it (If I'm being honest I actually didn't mind how I wrote the fight between Percy and Diana in chapter 2), but it won't be every chapter.

Have fun, happy holidays.

Cosmolve

(verb)

To change one's mindset or attitude pertaining to their place or position in the grand scheme of the universe.

Green.

A lush, vibrant, prickly green. Saturated, but not loud enough to be annoying. It was just right, bordering on a neon green but not quite that obnoxious.

The color filled his vision and lightly tickled his exposed hands and arms.

He just wanted to stay still forever, taking in the scent and soaking in the tranquility.

Sadly, that wasn't a possibility. He pushed off the green with his hands, escaping from the slightly uncomfortable yet peaceful feeling. The grass shifted beneath his palms as he lifted himself to his feet.

"You know, this is really unfair." Percy muttered under his breath, dusting off his sweatpants and readying himself for the oncoming storm. "I don't even have my powers."

A few dozen yards away, a very stoic and dangerous looking huntress stalked towards him, seemingly staring into his soul. Other than a few grunts and yells, Thalia hadn't said a word. Which, to be fair, was at least semi-accurate to her character. And from how painful the backend of her spear was when she slammed it into his gut, this mindscape had gotten her strength right too.

The one thing that didn't seem accurate was her fear of heights. After Thalia had unceremoniously shocked Percy so hard he was sent flying out his apartment window all the way to Central Park, she had glided over as if nothing had even happened.

Not that all this accuracy (or lack thereof) mattered. He was still getting his ass kicked.

On top of all that, add that he had no idea where Diana or J'onn had gone. Things just were not going well one bit for Percy.

She wasn't stopping. In fact, she was speeding up.

Great.

Percy reached into the pocket of his Themysciran-issued trousers, hoping against all hope that his sword had returned to him from when Thalia had swatted it aside.

The gods weren't on his side, and when his hand met cotton there was no cool presence of metal.

"Fuck." Percy said, Thalia continuing to barrel forward. He sighed in exasperation and withdrew his empty hand from his pocket to ready himself in a stance. Spear vs. hand didn't exactly sound appealing, but it would have to do.

Then, a distant yell. Getting louder, closer. A small gust of wind.

A blur of masses rocketed down from the sky and collided with Thalia before Percy could even turn his head toward the noise. Perhaps the gods were indeed feeling merciful.

Three bodies tumbled separately from the mesh of persons. Percy relaxed himself just a little bit.

"Diana?"

"Percy?" Diana groaned out, scrambling up and striding to Percy's side in case of an attack from their opponents. "Where've you been?"

"Right here getting the shit kicked out of me." Percy said. "What about you?"

"Up there." Diana gestured toward the sky before nodding towards Jason. "He's powerful. Good with a sword. But he doesn't really fight like you. Also, he can summon lightning. Not fun. "

"Yeah, I noticed." Percy rolled his eyes. "You see J'onn recently?"

"Last I saw he was a dragon." Diana scrunched up her nose after a moment. "Fighting another dragon. What the hell are your friends?"

"Long story." Percy shrugged. "But at our core, we're all demigods."

The sight of the siblings recovering from the collision jolted Percy back into his heightened, battle-hardened state. He reached into his pocket once more, and thankfully actually felt something this time.

He could've cried out in joy, but there wasn't time for that.

"Get ready." Percy said to Diana. He flicked off the cap of his pen and allowed his sword to take its true form.

"Wanna trade dance partners?" Diana asked with a weary yet excited smile.

"Fuck it."

And fuck it they did. It was odd how the three memory guardians protecting his mind seemed to specifically counter their abilities. Jason was a fairly good mimic of Diana, Thalia was fairly matched with Percy, and from what Diana had told him both Frank and J'onn could shapeshift. It didn't matter whether that was intentional or not. The only thing that mattered was that by switching opponents they didn't have direct counters to their fighting styles.

Well, as long as this fake Thalia shared the real Thalia's fear of heights, Diana should be fine. If not… he had faith in his companion. If he was to bet on Daughter of Zeus vs. Daughter of Zeus, he would lean towards the one supposedly fashioned out of clay and trained in combat since birth.

Percy's focus snapped back to his own personal problem in the form of the Roman praetor staring him down. He had fought the teenager before, and if he was being truthful they had been fairly equal at the time even though their fighting styles differed dramatically. Now, however, the boy standing before him didn't have the physical advantage of having matured to young adulthood. Percy had no such disadvantage. He was a full-fledged adult now. Taller, stronger, more experienced.

Thalia had taken him when he was off his guard earlier. Jason wouldn't be able to do the same.

Words weren't needed as the two met in the blink of an eye, Imperial Gold meeting Celestial Bronze. Jason had the same sound technique he remembered from all those years ago, but in Percy's mind, he never stood a chance. Not when after a few minutes, Percy's overwhelming slashes continued to forcefully bash Jason's sword back at him. Now when the blonde's movements became slowed while Percy's more developed stature allowed him continued grace and agility.

And so after maybe a dozen minutes or so into the contest, Percy struck the final blow in the form of a smack to the head with the flat of his blade. Too slow to stop the blow, Jason crumpled to the ground in an instant. Curiously, after a moment, his body faded into nothingness. It wasn't like a monster, where the body distorted into flecks of matter that floated and dispersed. He just… faded. Became transparent.

Percy shrugged and turned towards Diana's fight with Thalia, only to see her resting on a park bench rather casually.

"Took you long enough." Diana said. Much to Percy's chagrin, she didn't even sound tired or out of breath.

"How long have you been done?" Annoyance and exasperation leaked into his voice even as he plopped down on the bench beside her.

"Few minutes." Diana replied with a shrug. "You could've ended the fight sooner."

"Eh." Percy's forehead creased and his brow furrowed just a bit. "It was fun."

"I think you'd be classified as a - what do they call it - adrenaline junkie because of that." Diana said thoughtfully. Percy didn't have an answer to that, so he settled on silence instead.

"Where's J'onn?" Percy asked after a few beats for a second time. He really needed to keep track of the martian better. Diana looked around for a moment, turning her head in all ways before finally tracking down her target and nodding in its direction.

Simply put, what Percy saw was a spectacle to behold. He had seen gods fight, seen towering giants and fighters with the grace of a ballerina. But he had to say that what he was witness to might exceed any battle he had previously seen.

One second he saw an eagle furiously clawing at a falcon, the next a fucking snake was coiling itself around a gorilla' neck. A gryphon wrestled with a bear. A panther tackled a tiger. A wolf bit into a pegasus. And so on and so on and so on.

It was beautiful.

And the thing was, Percy had no idea who to root for. The animals shifted and morphed into each other, his brain struggling to comprehend who was friend and who was foe.

"Should we, uh, help him?" Percy asked. Diana chuckled.

"No need," she responded. "J'onn'll be fine."

And indeed he was. The majestic dance between the two shapeshifters ended when a lion viciously clawed out one of a cerberus' necks. The cerberus faded away similar to Jason while the lion morphed back into J'onn's original state. Percy had to resist the urge to clap for him. Thankfully, his willpower proved stronger. An impressive feat, it was.

"You both are all right?" J'onn asked, completely disregarding the show he had just put on for them.

"Could be worse." Diana remarked.

"You can shapeshift and you're a telepath?" Percy asked incredulously. "Anything else I should know about?"

"Perhaps a demonstration's in order once we return to the mortal plane." J'onn chuckled. "But first, let's finish what we started."

"Just, spread out, I guess." Percy said hesitantly at the entrance of his apartment.

"What are we looking for?" Diana asked, looking towards J'onn. To be honest, Percy wasn't sure either. The martian frowned in thought before answering.

"I'm not sure," he finally settled on. "They were guarding this place, so we were obviously heading in the right direction. Perhaps we simply look for anything out of place that might lead to something Percy doesn't remember."

"Sounds good." Percy said after a moment.

And so they split up, looking for clues like they were in a fucking Scooby Doo episode or some other detective shit. Maybe that wasn't the right show. Would Nancy Drew be more accurate? Or maybe CSI. It's been awhile since he last saw anything on TV, cut him some slack.

To be completely honest, there was probably no point in spreading out to "cover more ground" or anything like that. Percy's apartment was comically small with only a living room that transitioned into the kitchen, a bedroom, and a small bathroom. He hadn't had the heart to move any of his mom's stuff out since she died, so it was partly his fault that it was a little cramped, but it just wouldn't feel right without her old typewriter or her baking equipment or even her collection of candles.

Add on top of that a bunch of Annabeth's old things, and yeah… the apartment was just a little cramped. Not enough to bother him too much, but it was noticeable.

Still, the time apart from the others in exploring the rather small apartment allowed him to reflect and immerse himself in a familiar nostalgic state. The feeling was naturally melancholy, but he couldn't help it. One look at an old calculus textbook supplied him with countless memories of him and Annabeth in a New Rome University dorm. A smidge of blue paste on the ceiling took him back to times with his mom when they blissfully baked random pastries (Percy only helped to actually color said pastries blue, but he still contributed).

It was a torrent of morose memories threatening to wash him out to sea.

The apparently sudden appearance of a Yankees hat didn't help that matter. It was rather innocently strewn on the small dining table that the apartment held, yet the object was anything but insignificant. Percy smiled sadly and picked up the worn out baseball cap. One touch of it and he could tell that the cap had undergone a practically abusive ownership. Dirt sprinkled the brim and the once vibrant navy blue had faded to a more subdued and alabaster blue. Honestly, Percy was surprised that there weren't any holes or stray strands of fabric.

A wave of memories crashed down, and his defenses were meaninglessly flung to the side. Countless adventures flooded his mind and it was all Percy could do to resist the overwhelming urge to curl up and just remember. Even though he stayed standing despite his legs weakly shaking, he couldn't stop his mind from reeling back to that night seemingly an eternity ago. Westover Hall. A manticore. The river. The rage.

Looking back, that was the night Percy knew.

But enough of that.

He absentmindedly shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts, deciding that it would probably be best to do something, anything to distract himself. Entering the bedroom with the sole purpose of ridding himself of the enticing melancholy thoughts, Percy took to randomly looking around and fiddling with his belongings. He faintly heard J'onn and Diana conversing in the background, but generally didn't pay attention to whatever they were talking about.

Instead, he bothered himself with inspecting his bedroom and the objects that lay inside. There were a few trinkets here and there from his adventures over the years despite the fact that Percy stored some of the more pertinent souvenirs in Cabin Three at Camp Half-Blood (think Minotaur horn, dragon-bone sword, sand dollars, etc.).

A few blueprints laid on Percy's desk, a handful of drachmas acting as a paperweight. The window was halfway open, another pot of moonlace sitting in the dull sunlight that reached the fire escape. Textbooks were carelessly scattered on the floor and his sheets looked like he had gotten distracted halfway through making his bed.

All in all, at first glance, his bedroom looked… normal.

"Fuck me." Percy released a sigh, exasperation and frustration escaping his lips. He flopped down on the bed, his mother's voice ringing in his subconscious to take off his gods-damned shoes. He relented, although his mom would probably be even more upset that he flung them at the opposite wall. Whatever.

He yawned and stretched akin to a cat, the urge to curl up and take a nap almost overpowering him. Percy looked to his nightstand in search of the time that was usually displayed on his digital alarm clock, but oddly, it wasn't there.

In fact, his usual cluttered nightstand didn't have anything on it, not even his lamp.

Nothing… except for a single object.

A leather string of multicolored beads and other objects stretched across the wooden top of his nightstand. Percy had to squint at it to make sure he wasn't seeing things. After a beat, he scrambled up into a sitting position and snatched up the object.

A camp necklace.

An old one, at that.

Twelve beads of different colors, with different symbols. On top of that, a silver ring, a sand dollar, and a red coral pendant were randomly placed throughout the beads.

It was unmistakably Annabeth's.

Percy cradled the necklace in one hand and traced the painted beads with the other. He had never really inspected her necklace up close, but he knew that she had five beads more than his. Some he recognized, others he didn't.

A centaur in a prom dress. The Empire State Building. A maze. The Golden Fleece. A pine tree. A burning Greek trireme. A trident.

A thought occurred to him.

Annabeth was supposed to have five more beads than him from her time at camp before he arrived. He had 6. Four from his adventures before they discovered the Romans, and two from after the Giant War but before they went to college.

Where did the extra bead come from?

Percy furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. He vaguely remembered Annabeth explaining the meaning of the beads from before his arrival, but that was a long, long time ago. He scanned the beads more intently, faintly recognizing a few seemingly unfamiliar ones.

And then he found it.

His thumb curiously slid over the symbol of the faded, cerulean bead. For some reason, the actual symbol was red. Every other bead was colored with a black symbol, but this one was different.

What was it?

The name of the symbol was on the tip of his tongue, and yet for some reason…

A whirlpool.

Then the memories ran rampant.

Almost as if the symbol was a trigger for what he'd forgotten, a confusing, overwhelming, terrifying onslaught of flashbacks overflowed his mental capacities.

He remembered. He remembered a feeling of pure resentment. He remembered an emotion so complex and forceful that his entire being was commanded by a feeling.

Anger so volatile that he'd allowed his powers to control him instead of the other way around. Hate so deep-seated that he did something he'd sworn he'd never repeat in a million lifetimes. Power so terrifying that it chilled even him to his very core.

Fear. Fear so overpowering that he allowed the memories of his actions to be repressed so far he'd hopefully never remember.

But he did.

He remembered.

He remembered the overstimulating, intense, horrifying memories that the gods themselves had tried to bury deeper than Tartarus himself.

But he remembered.

So he committed to the most plausible action he could think of.

He ran.

Many answers, many more questions. You'll have to wait till next time. ;)